


❧ Dawn of the Dale

by jellyguts



Category: Strange Trails - Lord Huron (Album)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hilarious hijinks, IDK WHAT TO PUT, M/M, ZOMBIE MEN
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-10 21:51:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7009525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellyguts/pseuds/jellyguts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Normally Dale doesn't find himself waking up in morgues. Parks? Other people's beds? No big deal. A morgue? Weeell, it's one of the weirder spots, that's for sure. Luckily he bumped into a cute guy who offers him a place, though, huh?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Episode 1: I really should have stayed home today.

_ … _

_ ….. _

_ ……. _

_ Okay… Wow, it’s dark. Dark, and cold as fuck.  _

An attempt at sitting up in this complete darkness resulted in smacking his face into, something? Wait, is that a roof? His hands patted at the darkness, feeling the cold metal under his hands. The man tried to move his arms more, but was met with a lot less space than he imagined. But, then again, he was in pitch black. He couldn’t even see his own hands in front of himself. Where the fuck…

**_..._ **

A sudden wave of panic hit him, causing the man to thrash and kick at his confined area, eventually pushing on the wall behind his head, effectively putting enough force to make the door at his feet to swing open, and his metal death bed to roll out, blinding himself momentarily as the light hit his very, very sensitive eyes. He blinked a couple times, looking around at the room he found himself in.

There were many small, square doors, just like the one he’d opened up. A couple desks, more metal cots, and a few bags laying around as well. And goddamn it was  **_COLD_ ** ! Do the people who stay here not know what a fucking thermostat is? Holy shit.

A morgue? He couldn’t really remember, well, anything right now. His main concern is getting the fuck out of here. Frankly, he didn’t even know what year it was. Hopping off the metal cot, staggering a bit as his muscles strained to hold him up, he blinked and looked down at himself, sighing slightly as he was completely, bare ass naked.

_ Really? Come the  _ **_fuck_ ** _ on. Just one thing after another…  _ The man thought, his vocal chords unable to push anything out at the moment, bringing a hand down to cup and hide his, assets, peeking out the doorway into the dimly lit hallway.

The coast was clear, so he hurried off to the nearest exit he could find, fumbling around with the doorknob as best as he could with one free hand. Once free, he slipped away behind the building and off to the least populated road, snickering and looking back at the building behind him, not watching where he was going.

“Wah!” Was the surprised cry from in front of him, as he collided with a very tall, very lanky young man who wasn’t watching his way either. The man gasped and quickly covered his eyes from the sight in front of himself. Dale blinked, covered himself again, and looked up at him, raising an eyebrow casually at the man’s fuzzy blue mittens currently shielding the face beneath them.

What on earth…. Did this man just come out of that morgue? Why is he, naked… Ohhh no, what is going on… It took Buck a moment to even speak, let alone move the mittens to actually look.

“Um, are you, alright? What’s your name?” The taller one asked, quickly shedding the overcoat he was wearing and offering it to the smaller. He took it, wrapping it around himself, luckily short enough that the length of the coat was enough to cover anything considered indecent. The brunette tilted his head, looking from the young man, to the morgue, and back. This was like something straight out of those zombie comics, or something…

“...” The smaller man tried to speak, but still his vocal chords remained uncooperative. A soft cough instead, and he just shook his head. He couldn’t remember, he didn’t even know where the fuck he was. He’s just, cold, confused, and in a little bit of pain from trying to speak.

“Uh, well,” The taller rubbed his neck and looked around, sighing a little. It was late, he couldn’t just leave this guy here...  “Why, why don’t you just come to my place for tonight, it’s getting late,” 

_ Oh! Well that’s awful nice of ya. Thanks cutie _ . … Was what he’d like to have said, but instead, a smile would have to do. The taller man smiled back then, gesturing for him to follow behind him as he lead the strange zombie man home.

* * *

 

The two made their way back to the tiny house that the tall man said was his own. It was really tiny, kind of ironic considering how tall the guy was. You’d think he’d want a big house, but. Guess not.

“It ah, it ain’t much, but. It’s cozy.” He said, holding the door open for the smaller, and following him inside. “Oh! Um, my name is Buck, by the way. Buck Vernon.” Buck said with a small smile to the other.

The smaller man smiled back and gave him a thumbs up, in exchange for currently being unable to speak. He looked around the little house, small enough that a few rooms were basically conjoined. A lot of little knick-knacks everywhere. Hehe, cute.

“Um, make yourself at home, there’s a room with a pull-out sofa you can use, so ya don’t have to sleep in the living room. Oh! Let me grab you some clothes, hold on.” Buck gestured towards the room, and disappeared into his own, but quickly returned with a pair of boxers, a shirt, and some pajama pants.

The smaller man smiled, and took them.

* * *

 

A couple hours, a cup of tea, some oversized boxers and shirt, and a shower later, the two found themselves settled in the bigger man, named Buck’s, little living room.

“So…your toe tag didn’t say your name?” Buck tilted his head, taking a sip of his tea. He must have been from out of town, if he wasn’t in the town’s database.

The man opposite to him cleared his throat a little, shaking his head. 

“Uh, nah.” Came the gravelly response, a voice a little deeper than what Buck had expected from such a short man. The tea had helped his throat a little. “Pretty sure it ain’t ‘John Doe’ though.”

“Ah, well, it’s nice to meet you anyway, even if this is, kind of a little weird.” Buck chuckled slightly, unsure whether or not this was just a really, really lucid dream or not.

“Trust me, s’weird for the both of us.” The man gave a small chuckle as well, sipping his tea. 

What he couldn’t remember, was... what the fuck happened to him? Why did he wake up in a fucking morgue, and damn, when’s dinner?


	2. Episode 2: Pantry raid

Silence, only broken every second by the soft ticking of the clock hung up on the wall opposite to the little bed. Hands striking quarter after 3 AM.

The man lay in the bed, on his back and staring at the ceiling. He couldn't sleep. Not even if he tried.

A sigh was let out, and he sat up, looking around the dimly lit room he was offered. It was kind of bare, but that was understandable. It was just a simple guest room, doubling as a small storage room judging by the various musical equipment and the like. Wait, music stuff? Was this guy an artist? The man got up out of bed and walked over to the equipment, taking note of it. _Huh, neat._ A microphone pole, a guitar amp, and little drum as well. Fancy.

He coughed a little and rubbed his neck, making his way into the bathroom down the hall. Yawning, the door creaked open and he ran his hands through his hair, turning to look at himself in the little mirror. He looked tired, and a little dead. But that was understandable. He did just wake up in a morgue last night. He couldn't be bothered to wear any pajamas, the boxers Buck had provided for him were already too big. There was no use in wearing more clothes that ended up falling off.

A sigh escaped him as he examined the large scar in the mirror, his eyebrows furrowing a little as he ran a hand across it. _Christ_ , it was ugly. Running from below his navel up to his collar bones, and outward to his shoulders. It was somewhat healed, but was still tender to the touch. Fucking asshole doctors, thinking they can just cut him open like that...

He left the bathroom before it upset him too much, looking at himself in this condition.

The man wandered down the hallway, passing the closed door to Buck's bedroom, the younger man fast asleep inside. His wandering lead him back into the living room from earlier, quiet and still without the two of them sitting parallel. The gaze that roamed the little room was caught by a guitar resting gently on it's stand. Ahh, so he definitely was an artist. A guitar player. Heh, maybe he had a band? He'd never even heard the name Buck Vernon before, but who knows. Probably did country if that accent he had was to offer any hints.

He walked over to the guitar and picked it up, examining it closer. It looked a little old, probably just well used. Which was kind of cute, the guy must really like playing it. He wondered if Buck was any good. Strumming the guitar proved to be louder than he expected and he quickly clamped a hand over the strings before Buck heard anything. 

"Holy shit... Be more careful you dumbass." The man muttered to himself, fiddling with the tuning knobs this time.

But with a loud _**TWANG** _ and a muffled curse from the man, he reeled his hand back as the string snapped, whipping his hand in protest to the fiddling of the knobs.

"MMMH," He huffed out his nose and shook his hand in pain, setting the guitar down and rubbing his hand. What the fuck was that, he barely even touched the fucking thing? Jesus, how the fuck did that guy Buck deal with that, that's like a metal wire just, just stabbing your hand, or something...

...

He looked back down at the guitar, and realized he had broke it.

"Ohhh fuck, he's gonna be pissed, you broke his fucking guitar..." The man panicked a little, deciding to just, shove the poor guitar under the sofa and pretend it was broken when he found it. Yeah, that works. Totally works.... ooh, what's that smell? He turned his body to look into the kitchen, following his nose to find the source of whatever smelled so yummy.

After digging around a bit in the kitchen, he sourced the scent. It was some apple pie, probably baked yesterday before he accidentally flashed the poor guy. Buck wouldn't mind if he ate a few slices, right? Riiight. He took out a plate and cut himself a slice, immediately chowing down. Not even bothering to warm it up, just straight up cold pie. He was too hungry to really care at this point. He ain't eaten for, what, two weeks almost?

He'd spend the next few hours rummaging and pilfering Buck's kitchen, eating anything that he could get his hands on. Fruit, vegetables, even straight up cheese from the fridge. The man was fuckin' starving for fuck's sake! Can you really blame him? 

The binge eating session ended with him staggering back over to the sofa, flopping down on it and falling fast asleep. Leaving the chaos that was Buck's kitchen in his wake.

* * *

 

Buck stood frozen in his tracks, eyes looking around his poor, ransacked remains of a kitchen. Oh my gosh... It looked like a tornado came through and, ate all his food...

He rubbed the back of his head, sighing lightly at the sight of it. Geez... He'll have to buy a whole lot of groceries next time he goes out...


	3. Episode 3: Late nights and awful company

“Have you remembered anything at all?”

The man across the dinner table looked up from his plate, to look up at Buck who’d asked him a question. 

“Huh? Oh, nah.” He shrugged and Buck gave a little sad frown.  _ Poor guy… _ He seemed fine though, he was scarfing down that dinner pretty fast. Which… was actually kind of gross.

“Not even your name?” Buck tilted his head, and the man shook his head.

“Nope, but ‘m thinkin’ if I don’t remember, I’ll name myself somethin’ sexy. Like, Alejandro or somethin’.” The man grinned at Buck, and the singer raised an eyebrow.

“Alejandro?” He repeated.

“Yeah, ya don’t think that’s a hot name? I’d fuck an Alejandro.”

Buck merely blinked and sighed, getting up from his side of the table and taking his plate to the sink. Gosh, he felt bad for the guy but did he have to be so vulgar?

“Aaaanyway. ‘M gonna go scope out this place, might as well if ‘m gonna be crashin’ here for a while, yeah?” The man stated, and Buck looked over his shoulder at him. He’s going out? He doesn’t even know his own name, will he be okay on his own, what if he gets lost or in trouble?

“Oh! Um, okay, be safe. The spare key is under the mat if you need to get in.” The singer smiled at him and waved with a soapy hand, and the man gave a little wave in return, heading out the door and down the steps.

…

Finally, some peace and quiet, at least. No disrespect of course! The guy was just, really loud and a little brash. He could clean up a bit, maybe get some other chores done while his roommate did, whatever he was out doing. Yeah… That sounds good! That’s what he’ll do.

* * *

 

The computer screen was straining Buck’s eyes, but he continued to scroll through the local town’s police records. He figured, since it’s been about three days since he found the man, someone’s got to have filed a missing person's report, right?

He’d gone through a few towns already with no luck, and he was beginning to lose a little hope. Sighing, he kept scrolling though. He didn’t like doing this, all these poor folks, their families wondering where they are… Geez, he can’t imagine going through something like that…

He looked over towards his door as he heard the front door open, that must be him. He didn’t even realize he had stayed up so late until now, oops… He didn’t expect his roommate to be out for so long either, he hadn’t noticed that either… Though he definitely wasn’t expecting a second hushed voice to be entering his house. Oh no, did he bring someone home…?

For a moment he considered peeking out of his room to check, but he decided against it. He shouldn’t snoop, that ain’t very nice. Instead, he turned his attention back to his monitor, continuing to browse through the unfortunate listings. After a few more pages of scrolling, and some giggling from the living room, his eyes finally caught one that could be a match.

Hispanic, black hair brown eyes, 5’5”? Was his roommate that short…? He hadn’t even thought to notice.  _ Dale Redmayne  _ huh? He opened up the attached files, and blinked a couple times as he was faced with the same, slightly irritated, mean mug that was staying in his spare room.  _ Oh my gosh! That’s him!! I found him!! _

Instantly reaching for his phone, Buck paused for a moment. Maybe the middle of the night wasn’t the best time to call the man’s family… He’ll wait until normal folks would be awake. Instead, browsing Dale’s name for any kind of social media he might’ve used was what he’ll focus on. 

Er… At least… What he would try to focus on, if there wasn’t a sudden interruption from the living room. What was that… Was that a moan…

Buck turned in his seat to look over at the door, waiting for another sound to confirm or deny his creeping suspicion. O-Okay, yeah, there it is. Wow they were loud, oh geez. He squinted at the door and turned back to the computer, putting his headphones on to drown out the slightly horrifying noises coming from his roommate and, whoever he had managed to bring home.

He sighed, rubbing his head and resumed his search for anything he could show his roo-, Dale, to see if he could remember it.

This night might be a little longer than he had expected...


End file.
